


Papa's Little Freakout

by Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte



Series: Destiel Daddies [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, Dorky!Dean, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/pseuds/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one ever said being a pregnant angel would be easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Papa's Little Freakout

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they remain the property of their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them to play for a little bit. All the stories are done for fun, not profit.
> 
>  
> 
> This was a prompt given to me by [becausedestiel](http://becausedestiel.tumblr.com/) and the resulting story is a gift for her. Hope you like it, Riley!

Dean carefully pushes the bedroom door open, trying to make as little noise as possible.  He’s halfway to his destination when one of the floorboards squeaks underfoot. There’s a soft shuffling from the bed and a few seconds later, the sound of of Castiel’s voice, “No need to sneak in, Dean.  I’m awake.”

The bedside lamp clicks on and Dean makes room on the nightstand for the small tray he’s carrying.  He sits on the edge of the bed and smiles down at his husband, “I wasn’t sure.”

Cas hums softly and mumbles, “And yet, you brought me tea?”

Dean chuckles, “Well, yeah.  I know you had a bad day today so I figured maybe I could somehow make sure your night was better.”  Castiel presses his face into the pillow and Dean picks up the small teapot on the tray, pouring peppermint tea into Cas’ favorite mug.  He helps Cas sit up and hands him the mug, “Here.”

The angel takes it and blows over the brim; eyes drifting shut as he takes a deep inhale of the steam wafting up.  He takes a few sips and sets the mug aside, “You spoil me.  You realize that, correct?”  Dean shrugs and pushes the hem of Castiel’s t-shirt up, exposing his pregnant belly.  Cas huffs, the sound irritated, and pulls the tee back down, covering himself once more, hands covering his belly almost protectively, “Dean.”

His voice is a quiet warning and Dean smooths the cotton over the swell of Castiel’s stomach, “Okay, okay.  I’m sorry.  I know better.  Papa doesn’t like it when Daddy touches the bump.”  He tries to keep the hurt out of his voice, but fails.

Cas sighs, “It’s not that, Dean.”

“Then what, Angelface?”  Castiel turns away, hands rubbing absently over his swollen midsection.  Dean catches the sideways glance Cas gives him and whispers, “If you don’t tell me what I’m doing wrong, how am I supposed to fix it?”

Castiel turns to look at him, his expression horrified, “You’re not doing anything wrong.  I just,” Cas takes a breath and shakes his head.  The angel lifts his hands to gesture vaguely at his belly, “…I’m disgusting.”  And just like that, Castiel is ranting.  It’s as if once he started talking, he can’t stop, “I’m always on the verge of nausea and when I do get hungry, it’s for the most disgusting combinations of food!”  Dean bites back his smile and just listens, “Just yesterday I ate a peanut butter and sardine sandwich.  Peanut butter and _sardines_!  I _hate_ sardines!  It was horrible, Dean.  Even as I was eating it, I was appalled by my choice, but I couldn’t stop!”  Dean takes a breath to interrupt, but never gets the chance, “Then afterwards, I got the worst heartburn.”  Cas glares at him accusingly, “and you weren’t here to make me feel better!  You promised, Dean!”

Dean cocks his head and asks, “I promised?”

“In our marriage vows, you promised: ‘in sickness or in health.’  Don’t you remember?”  Dean nods but Castiel isn’t finished, “Then why weren’t you here?!  You’re supposed to make me feel better and you weren’t here!”

Tears are welling up in Cas’ eyes and Dean shifts closer, pressing their foreheads together, “I’m sorry I was at work, Angel.”  He slides both legs under Castiel’s and then wraps them around his body, ankles crossing over one another behind him.  Cas is making these pathetic little hiccupping sobs and Dean pulls him into a hug, one hand cupped on the back of his head, effectively cradling their child in the space between them.  He rubs a hand up and down his husband’s back as he cries, lips brushing light kisses over the side of his neck, “I’m sorry you felt sick and that I wasn’t here to make you feel better.”  Castiel sniffles quietly and Dean whispers, “And you are definitely not disgusting."

Cas scoffs and mutters, “I’m fat.  My ankles are perpetually swollen and my back, oh gods, my back!”  Dean scoots closer and slips his hands under Castiel’s t-shirt, fingers kneading the angel’s sore muscles.  Cas moans softly, “Lower.”

Dean slides his hands down to the small of Castiel’s back and presses in gently, “There?”  Cas whimpers and nods, fingers digging into his shoulders almost painfully.  Dean chides playfully, “Ease up on your grip there, Angel.  Still human here, remember?”

A tiny laugh wafts over his ear, “My apologies, Husband.”  Dean digs his fingertips into the dip of Castiel’s spine and the angel gasps brokenly, “Right there.”

Dean sucks in a breath and pulls back, eyes locked on Cas’ belly, “What the hell was that?”

Castiel laughs softly, “It seems our daughter was feeling claustrophobic.”

“S-she w-what?”  Dean drags his gaze up to meet his husband’s, “Was that…was that her moving?”  Cas smiles and nods, both hands rubbing over his stomach as he speaks to it in quiet Enochian.  Dean reaches a hand out to touch, but pulls it back at the last second, asking curiously, “D-does she do it often?”

Castiel shrugs, “It used to feel like butterflies in my stomach, but that time felt like the butterflies were trying to escape.”

“W-wait.”  Dean holds up a hand, “Is that the first time it felt that way?”  Cas tilts his head and after a second, he nods.  “You mean t-that’s the f-first time our baby’s kicked?” 

The angel thinks for a moment, expression curious, “I suppose you could say that is what it felt like, but from within the confines of my body.”  Castiel nods and murmurs, “Yes, kicking seems a suitable way of describing it.”

A happy little laugh escapes Dean and he smiles at his husband, eyes crinkling in the corners.  He’s awestruck, hands itching to reach out and touch, but still he holds back.  “That’s kind of a big deal, the whole first kicking thing.  Or so I’ve heard.”

Cas’ eyes drop to his belly and then lift to meet his once more, “I was unaware this was a momentous occasion.”  Dean shrugs and waves his hand dismissively.  “Would you like to feel?”

Dean takes a trembling breath and shakes his head, “Nah.  It’s okay.  I know you don’t like me to touch-“

The rest of his sentence chokes off as Castiel takes his hand and places it on his abdomen.  Dean swallows hard, afraid to do anything to screw up this rare occurrence.  Seconds pass and nothing happens.  Cas pulls his t-shirt up and puts Dean’s hand on his bare skin, but still nothing.  He covers Dean’s hand with both of his and says a few words of Enochian, apparently trying to coax their child to move.  Castiel mumbles an apology, “She seems to have stopped.”

Dean’s smile falters, throat closing up, but he tries to laugh it off, “It’s okay.”  He pulls his hand back, “Don’t worry about it.  It’s not a-“ Cas grabs his hand and puts it back onto his belly.  Dean looks up and whispers, “What?”

“Keep talking!”

“What do you want me to- OHMYGOD!”

Dean tries to pull his hand back but Castiel’s grip keeps it in place.  The movement under his palm stills and Cas urges him, “Say something else!”

He chews his bottom lip nervously, “Um, hey there baby girl.  Uh…it’s your daddy?”  Dean laughs when Castiel’s belly shifts beneath his hand, “That’s right.  I’m your daddy.”  There’s an answering bump to his fingertips and then it’s gone, “Hey, where’d you go?”  Cas shifts Dean’s hand to the side of his stomach and they both laugh when their daughter kicks first his hand and then just below it.  “Oh, I see.  You playing hide and seek?”  Dean leans to brush a lingering kiss to the skin just above Castiel’s navel, pulling back when he gets a kick for his trouble.  “Hey now, don’t be like that.  Daddy’s just showing you how much he loves you.”  Dean shifts to kiss the side of Cas’ belly and the baby delivers another kick. 

Castiel chuckles, “She seems to be toying with you.”

Dean grins and leans to whisper at his daughter, “Hey, baby girl,” then taps Cas’ belly with his index finger.  The skin shifts under his fingertip and Dean whispers, “Over here,” before moving his finger and tapping lower.  There’s another shift and Dean laughs, “How about…over here?”  He drums his fingers along the side of his husband’s belly and sucks in an excited breath when there’s a series of subtle shifts in the skin.

“Having fun?”

Dean looks up, smile wavering as he pulls his hand back, “I’m sorry, does it hurt?”

Castiel shakes his head, “It feels…strange, but no, it is not causing me discomfort.”  He reaches out and cups a hand over his cheek, “She likes the sound of your voice, Dean.”

“Yeah?”  Cas nods.  Dean feels his grin turn wicked and he reaches for the bedside table, plucking a daisy from the small vase on the tray there.  He puts the flower on Castiel’s belly.  After a few seconds, it shifts once, twice before sliding off and onto the mattress.  Dean picks it up and puts it back, only to have it be kicked off again.  Cas gives him a look and Dean holds up a finger, “Wait here.”

He slips off the bed and rushes out of the room, returning with a handful of items from the nursery.  Castiel crosses his arms and scolds, “Dean!”

Dean laughs, “What?”  He climbs onto the bed once more and puts the first item on Cas’ bump, “Get it, baby.”  The crotchet bootie wiggles and then falls to the bed.  An excited giggle escapes him and he balances the next item before urging, “Go ahead, darlin’.”  This time Castiel snorts when the small stuffed pig seems to dance for a bit before plummeting to the mattress.

“You are a strange man, Dean Winchester.”

“Oh, shut it.  You love me.”  The words are muttered under his breath as he puts a purple rubber ducky onto Cas’ naked abdomen.  He’s about to speak when the duck shifts, first one way then the other.  “See?  She likes this game.”  Castiel purses his lips and rolls his eyes, an entirely too-human gesture that he’s picked up in their years together.  The rubber ducky shifts again, but doesn’t jostle off.  “What’s the matter, baby girl?  Too heavy?”  Cas sucks in a hissing breath and in the next instant, the duck is flying across the room.  Dean’s mouth drops open, “Holy shit!”  He cups Castiel’s face in his hands and whispers, “Are you okay, Cas?”

His husband nods, wincing slightly, “I do believe our daughter has your tenacity.  Tell her she can’t do something and she’ll prove you wrong.”

“Sorry, Angel.  Didn’t think she’d kick that hard.”  Dean nuzzles Cas’ lips and smiles into the kiss bestowed upon him, “I love you.”

Castiel smiles and whispers back, “I love you too, silly man.”


End file.
